Magazine Boy
by Lythis
Summary: From James POV. Seventh year one-shot fic about how he gets together with Lily. Read and Review?


Notes: from James POV, takes place 7th year before Lily and James get together. Lily/Lucius and Lily/James  
  
Magazine Boy  
  
By: Skylar Inari  
  
She leafing through her magazines again, looking all starry-eyed again with a misty smile on her face. Damnit. What does she see in that pasty-faced foul Malfoy? He's an arrogant bastard who's puffed up on the so-called importance of the purity of blood. He wouldn't give her the time of day.  
  
Ease down James, seething with jealousy isn't attractive on anybody. Evans wont give you the time of day if you stomp in there an start acting like she's cheating on you. She's not even dating you, you cannot be angry at her...for that.  
  
Taking a few deep breaths and forcing a smile on my face (hoping that it doesn't look too fake) I run my hands through my hair once and then enter the library. She doesn't look up. My heart sinks a little even though I know how hard it is to hear someone approaching in the library.  
  
I pass her without saying a word, resisting the urge to rip the issues of Witch Weekly and The Quibbler out of her hands. She doesn't even notice.  
  
Blasted Malfoy. Why he was modeling was anybody's guess but it was driving Hogwarts population of females crazy and driving the males just as crazy in another way. All of a sudden other guys were finding that their girlfriend's would rather sit and gossip about Malfoy with their friends than spend any time with them.  
  
The last week had held the record for breakups ever at Hogwarts. This week looked fair to eclipse it.  
  
Regulus Black had told Sirius that Malfoy's father had told him to get used to being in the public eye.  
  
I search through the shelves looking for information on foreign charms for Professor Flitwick's assignment. I somehow doubt that that was what Malfoy senior had meant by getting his son used to being in the public eye.  
  
Trust a Malfoy to do that.  
  
They're as bad as the Snape's. At least Snivellus doesn't have girl's practically throwing themselves at him. Greasy slimy haired git.  
  
A soft giggle comes from her direction. I bang my head softly against the book shelves. Damnit. How the hell am I supposed to talk to her when she's all ga-ga over Mr. Stick-Up-His-Arse-Malfoy?  
  
I'm not jealous. Really.  
  
I can handle her looking in magazines at other men I guess (since I can't really stop it), but augh, why does it have to be Malfoy? That's just wrong and horribly gross. I suppress a shudder at the thought.  
  
Finding the book I seat myself at a table on the opposite side of the room from Lily. My self-control is not good enough to withstand close proximity to her while she's giggling over that lousy no-good over-bred --  
  
Calm down, James. I bury my head in the book and try to ignore the persistent nagging little voice in the back of my head (that sounded suspiciously like Sirius) telling me to get on with it.  
  
How did I ever let him talk me into this? Oh...wait...right...damnit. Bloody Firewhiskey.  
  
Kill me now.  
  
Just how am I supposed to talk to her when she's giggling her head off about him? I bang my head against the table. Maybe I should just give up. Go back to the dormitories and tell them that she turned me down. Again.  
  
No. I don't think so.  
  
Laying down the book (that I hadn't managed yet to read a word of) I ran my hands nervously through my hair and glanced sidelong at Lily. Good. She was doing homework now.  
  
Thank you, God.  
  
Easier by far to speak to her if that disgusting git isn't staring me in the face doing gods knows what. Stupid moving pictures.  
  
Sometimes muggle inventions seem like a good idea.  
  
With muggle photographs at least you don't have to worry about being ratted out by some dead relative who think that punishment builds character. If that's the case, I have enough character to suffocate in.  
  
Standing, I throttle the urge to run and save myself more humiliation (just how many times has she rejected me?) and repeat the Potter family motto 'Never give up' under my breath. The motto certainly suits me; I've been after Lily for years and she still turns me down.  
  
Right. Now forward walk. Cool, calm, and collected. Good boy. Don't look arrogant. She hates that. Don't smile like you know something she doesn't. Stay cool. Poised and elegant are the way to go.  
  
I thank my lucky stars that my family insists on training in the courtly graces. They impress Lily more than any amount of Quidditch can. That had been discovered through numerous trial and error attempts.  
  
Stopping behind her I watch her head for a moment as it's bent over her homework. It's a pretty head, with soft red hair.  
  
Stay collected, damnit.  
  
She notices that I'm there. Finally. Laying down her quill she looks up at me.  
  
I look down, my face going red.  
  
And out the window goes my wits. Happens everytime. Don't know why I don't plan for that by now. Note to self: Plan for wit lose-age.  
  
Question: Is that even a word?  
  
I look up quickly, meeting her eyes for an instant before dropping my gaze again. Stupid training, deserting me in my time of need. How Slytherin of you, my manners.  
  
"W-will you go on a date with me?" I stammer it out, feeling like a third- year asking someone out for the first time.  
  
She pauses to consider it. I can see it in her eyes, weighing all of my faults and considering all of my good points. (what she considers to be my good points I don't know - I'm afraid to ask)  
  
I wait. Outwardly showing no impatience, inwardly a seething mass of nerves. Will she say yes? Or no? Will I be crushed again?  
  
Losing control of calm. Can feel it going.  
  
She smiles. Be still my heart. She says a single word:  
  
"Sure."  
  
And I'm in heaven.  
  
Take that, magazine boy.  
  
~owari~ 


End file.
